


By the Hairs on his Chin

by medusine



Series: Life at the Spy-Glass Inn [3]
Category: Black Sails
Genre: Arguing, Beards (Facial Hair), Bristol OT4 verse, Fluffy Ending, Kissing, M/M, Post-Canon, Rough Body Play, Thomas is a shit, is beard-shaming a thing?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-11
Updated: 2018-07-11
Packaged: 2019-06-08 23:30:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 754
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15254463
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/medusine/pseuds/medusine
Summary: Silver is back from a long voyage, his appearance a little changed. Thomas is not exactly tactful about pointing it out.





	By the Hairs on his Chin

**Author's Note:**

> Tumblr made me do it! After a hundred "pubes-beard" references on my dash, I couldn't not write this.

“What _do_ you look like?”

Perhaps it wasn't the kindest thing to say to John when Thomas first saw him after his return. John and James had been three months at sea, and Thomas had hurried down from Bath at the first news of their return. He'd found and greeted James properly, and had intended to do the same with John – until he was distracted by what was growing on John's chin.

John's eyes widened in surprise. He quickly glanced down at his clothes, then back up at Thomas. “What d'you mean, what do I look like? I look like myself, thank you very much.”

Thomas strode forward, somewhat sorry to have upset John, but mostly amused by his petulance.

“I'm afraid you definitely do not look like your usual handsome self, my dear.”

“I never said I was handsome–”

“But I did, and I'll stand by it.” Thomas cut in before John could indulge in self-deprecating nonsense. He gave him a grin. “At least I will, the moment you take care of that… thing.”

Thomas reached out to tickle John's chin through the coarse, curly hair that covered it. John had let it grow far too long for its texture. It ate up his face in an unflattering way.

“My beard's fine!”

Thomas couldn't help snorting. “Really? You looked at yourself in the mirror this fine morning and came to that conclusion?”

John turned to the mirror set in a corner of his room and looked at himself critically, running his fingers through his beard and pulling at it lightly. In the meantime, Thomas went to the drawer where John kept his shaving kit and pulled it out.

“Leave my beard alone, Thomas,” John snapped when he saw what Thomas was doing. He sounded like a fearsome pirate, that much Thomas would give him, but if John thought that the beard made him look he part, he was sorely mistaken.

“At least let me show you how to shape it, so that it suits you better.”

“You? What would you know about beard grooming?”

“A fair bit, actually. They were all the rage for a while at the end of last century, when I was young and my beard was… immature.”

John's eyes narrowed. “Did you just call my beard immature?”

“All right, your beard isn't immature. Just unfortunate.”

“Unfortunate,” John repeated flatly.

“Yes.” Thomas gave a little sigh, unable to hold his tongue any longer about what he thought of John's facial hair. “Let me put it like this. It looks like it should be growing below your belt, not on your face. It looks like a merkin.”

John gave an outraged gasp. “You take that back!”

“I'm only speaking my mind!”

“I'll show you hair below the belt!”

John came at Thomas much faster than Thomas expected him to, grabbing Thomas by the shirt to make him stoop and kissing him belligerently. Thomas laughed into his mouth and kissed him back, pulling him close. He'd missed this, the feel of John against him, strong and broad and passionate. John's hands were unbuckling Thomas' belt, impatiently sliding into his breeches and then–

“Ow! OW! John!” John had grabbed Thomas' pubic hair and tugged it viciously. Somehow this only made Thomas laugh harder, in spite of the painful tweak. He scrabbled at John's hand, giggling, trying to pry it away. John let out a little chuckle that suggested he wasn't quite as angry as he was letting on, but held fast.

“You're a prick,” John finally growled into Thomas' mouth. His grip became slacker as they kissed again, slower, savouring each other. “An absolute idiot of a man.”

“I missed you too,” Thomas told him, cradling the back of John's head. He pressed his forehead to John's, who let out a weary sigh and sagged a little against Thomas. Soon enough, John's hand in Thomas' breeches moved to the small of Thomas' back and rubbed there gently.

They stood there quietly, breathing in each other's presence. It was still new, this relationship, and still awkward. They were still finding their place, together and with James and Madi, and treading on each other's toes as they did so. But Thomas would learn to tame this pirate yet.

“Thomas?”

“Yes, my dear?”

John looked up at him, somewhat defiantly. “I suppose I could let you show me how to shape my bloody beard.”

Thomas' face split into a grin and he drew John into another deep kiss. Perhaps shaving could wait a little while longer.


End file.
